


Cologne

by Hermit9



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU (clearly), Dysphoria, Emotional Comfort, Established Luna/Draco, F/M, FTM Draco, Luna/Harry (mentioned), Nonbinary!Luna, Poly!Luna, Transphobia (Mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermit9/pseuds/Hermit9
Summary: HP Christmas exchange Fic.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Edgelord (lostlikeme)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostlikeme/gifts).



> Hope you like it!

The vanity had been a Black manor rescue project: stripped, cleaned and refinished. There was a bitter metaphor in there, Draco thought. He had been sitting in front of the brass trimmed mirror for too long, to be honest. But there was nothing that felt right with his reflection tonight, no positive affirmation for his bedtime ritual. The discomfort was an itch he couldn't scratch, familiar even now. But its intensity had eased since that first blessed year in school when he’d shorn his hair short and burnt most of his dresses.

He heard the door open as Luna returned, the heavy stomp of their hiking boots comforting in the too silent flat. They were home sooner than he had expected, or he had lost track of time in his maudlin. They walked up to Draco, framed by the vanity’s mirror like a softly golden angel. Their hair was loose, a mass of curls pulled and matted by hands and fingers and sweat. They were wearing a sheer oversized peasant blouse in moss green, falling off one shoulder. Draco smiled weakly, the tank top and binder underneath were his, though the stretchy yoga pants were not.

“How was your date?” Draco asked, with a hint of warm curiosity.

“It was fun. We went dancing and, well, not dancing,” Luna answered, bending slightly to wrap their arms around Draco. “You know you're always invited to come with us, right? If only to get you out of the house?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “And have Harry pull out my chair if we go eat, or hold the door and treat me like a lady? I think not.”

He didn’t mind the recent reconnecting between Luna and Potter. They had always been clear about their expectations and that strictly enforced monogamy wasn’t going to work. Draco just wished their metamour wasn’t his school years bully. He clamped down on the memories, an almost physical act that left him shivering.

“He’s getting better, you know?”

“By that, you mean that he makes a show of not using my dead name around you?” Draco’s tone dripped with contempt. 

Luna dropped a kiss on his forehead but didn’t push the subject. He was grateful for the consideration. Time heals, but some wounds run deep and the scabs were still fragile.

“Urg. You still smell like his cologne.”

Luna shrugged. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“I don’t know. Two hours… maybe three?”

“Why?” There was no accusation, no judgment in the question. Just Luna’s gentle acceptance of everything in the world, in all its shades.

“It’s wrong. Everything is wrong.” Draco sighed and pointed at his reflection. “My eyebrows are too thin and so pale. My cheekbones and jaws are the wrong shapes.”

Luna hummed as he spoke, then gently ran their fingertips over the offending traits and features, smoothing the frown on Draco’s forehead.

“Even the neck and shoulders are wrong, too smooth and rounded.” Draco’s voice was softer this time. Luna’s hands dropped down to his shoulders, noting the tension there, as they kissed their way down the side of Draco's neck.

“Tell you what,” they said, nipping gently at his jaw. “How about you help me out of this binder and we run a warm shower.” They stopped, patiently waiting for Draco to meet their gaze in the mirror. “That way you get to wash the cologne off me, and I get to go over every perfect inch of you.”

Draco nodded, leaning back into the embrace. He’d like that. Maybe the steam would obscure the false image in the reflection.

“Can I wash your hair?” there was a hint of shyness there. 

“Yes,” said Luna, “But only if you use the good coconut shampoo. They smiled and helped Draco up, shuffling the both of them, still in a tangle of arms toward the bathroom.


End file.
